Reacquaintance
by momentarything
Summary: 5 years later, Anzu has finally finished a dance education, all the while becoming a fiercely independent yet solitary woman. But raw passion has always escaped her, until 5000 miles from home she is reacquainted with a beautiful, brooding someone. S/A
1. Reflections

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh, I believe Kazuki Takahashi does? I am not trying to steal it:)

Note from the author: I've always been a fictional fan of Seto and Tea. The way the characters were written for the tv series makes sense in a way, because it was for a younger fan base, once that would not understand much beyond simple, who probably were not interested in any aspects of romance. But I truly believe, had it been written for a larger audience, that those small moments of interaction between Seto and Anzu would have been amplified, and that as they grew and matured they would have had a very profound chemistry. After all, the damaged and secretly well-intentioned orphan CEO who protects his family against all costs and twice saved her life, and the beautiful right hand of his rival? Sounds like an anime dream….Anyways, I see great potential. So here it is, without further adieu, because I believe these two would understand each other in a way others couldn't. Here is a Seto/Anzu for you, chemistry and all, 5 years into the future and whatever could happen may happen. REVIEWS, PLEASE. (warning…this may turn M in later chapters…, we will have to see)

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CHAPTER 1: REFLECTIONS

Anzu sipped on a glass of champagne with outward grace and a well-disguised inner reluctance. Dressed in an olive satin dress that hugged her with elegance, classic beading covering her ruched sweetheart strapless neckline, she wished silently to be in another time and place. It had been a long time since she felt the warmth of security and the pangs of familiarity. It had been 5 long years since she had left Domino. 5 years that had changed her beyond what she thought possible. She had been nothing more than a little girl, standing on the sidelines of her own life and watching others fight for their chance at greatness until she was given the opportunity to leave and make her own dreams come true. Dreams she had been secretly terrified of going after in the first place. On the outside, she had been thrilled for a scholarship to go to a dance conservatory that catered to her every craving in the world of movement. On the inside however, the battle of a young, confused teenager had raged like a desert storm. Oh how she had wished that her great opportunities were in a place where she had the comfort of home and even the occasional cordial visit from neglectful parents. How she had wished that she had somebody to hold her hand when she felt down, to trust when she didn't trust in herself, and to possibly even love, because Domino was where they knew her best. And speaking of love, hadn't she secretly hoped that one day, in a cheesy, cliché, FRIENDS kind of way, that just maybe she might see one of the boys (someday) in a slightly different light? That if she stuck around as they grew up and became real men, maybe she could have the kind of love story that little girls in a simple suburban life dream about such as the best friend turned lover or the boy next door turned fiancé? Anzu shook her head in part amusement, part embarrassment at her own past fantasies. Time had cleared her mind, and turned her into a woman instead of a silly teenager, one who looked at the world in a completely different, far less optimistic, more independent way. She knew that she had only been fooling herself so long ago, and the real woman that had grown had given up the search for love, because it was futile. The cold hard truth was that she had never felt the passion or raw sensual chemistry that she knew was the mark of the real deal with any one of those boys, nor would she ever feel it. They were part of an innocent, carefree time in her life when she believed in some unrealistic, rather fluffy tales. Fooling herself was no longer part of the game. Headstrong and completely capable of trusting in only herself, Anzu Mazaki was able to manage her life on her own. A man was no longer a necessity; she no longer yearned for a date on Valentine's Day, or for chocolates and pearls on her birthday. What she wanted was raw and mind-blowing, it was too hard to find, and in lieu of it, she was perfectly content with closing herself off to anything or anyone sub-par. Life was fine and focused without a significant other, and this is how she chose for it to be.

She snapped out of her reverie as she realized the alcoholic beverage in her glass had run dry. There was nothing left for her to sip on as a disguise to her uncomfortable feelings at this gaudy, pretentious event. It was a charity ball, $1000 a ticket, and not worth one damn penny of what had been paid. Luckily, she had received the ticket as a gift, an opportunity to wine and dine with the patrons of society and perhaps make some important connections beyond what Julliard had to offer. Her goal was to woo; the men who ran Manhattan were all here in one provocative, greedy pile and it was up her to impress enough to get an audition here, a sponsor there, maybe even be lucky enough to dazzle the owners of the local ballet and fine arts companies. Yet she felt nothing like the saccharine seductress that she was expected to be. She wasn't bitter by any means, god no. That would be an incorrect assessment. No….lost was more like it. Simply put, this was the fakest place on god's green earth. And here she was, in the middle of it all: Bambi. Waiting to be preyed on as she knew she would be as a green ballerina, looking for opportunity. And all she wanted for the first time since she left was to go back to a place where makeup was inconsequential, and the sway of your hips and the fraudulence of your speech didn't dictate success. What a life she had come from….what a life she was forced to play games in now.

"Stop brooding," she scolded herself gently. "You are going to look like an idiot if you don't go out there and do something." It wasn't honestly like this was the worst situation she could have been in. It was actually more of a family event than many she had been to. This was less the kind of disgusting, filthy, high class mess where old men tried to sleep with her in exchange for a shot at success. This was actually a place in which real patrons of the arts with souls that were still partially intact stood. There were many worse fates for her, and this was the best advantage she would ever have. She could go schmooze with a botox-treated middle-aged woman, appeal quickly to her husband in a wholesome yet dazzling manner, and still retain her dignity and feel unsullied. There were not many events where she could leave not feeling dirty inside for the looks she had been given by the appraising eyes of wealthy men. Pigs, most of them were. Pigs who never got the better of her, not now, and no matter how desperate she was for a job, not ever.

Instantly, she spotted an opportunity that suited her mood. Lady Orrington, oozing class and stature, was sauntering towards the champagne fountain, alone for what would probably be the only time that night. With the empty glass in her hand, she could easily have a small exchange of words while being refilled. Lady Orrington was one of the few women in high society Anzu looked up to. A widow of 30 years, she managed to be the Meryl Streep of Manhattan women. Ever so professional, she never acted with anything but the best of manners. A great patron and director of the arts for a living, owning and actively at the head of many dance and theatre companies, Lady Orrington was far from approachable. She needed some liquid courage and then Lady Orrington was going to hear from the most charming and delicate of personas Anzu Mazaki could summon from within. Knocking back a crystal vial of Belvedere spirits, her one track mind led her to glide effortlessly across the dance floor, her eye tracing the movements of Lady Orrington as she coordinated her movements for a flawless meeting of the two. That was until she, champagne glass, and a crystal vial all collided into what felt like a warm, Egyptian silk, 6 ½ foot tall wall of pure, unyielding steel…..


	2. Tensions

Disclaimer: Don't own the anime, please review!! It'll help me know whether to continue the story:)

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CHAPTER 2: TENSIONS

Anzu winced as she felt the pain of collision all throughout her body. She found it hard to believe she had run straight into a man instead of a statue. It certainly felt like she had been crushed by a piece of exquisite, ancient marble. Looking at the mess of limbs she had created, she felt a hand steady her instantly and then as quickly as the feather-light touch had grazed her, it had disappeared. Wondering why the beautiful hands she had gotten only a glimpse of would have been so quickly offended, she glanced up, confused, ready to apologize until comprehension dawned on her and she realized she was staring into the clear, unfazed, jewel blue eyes of none other than _Seto Kaiba_.

"Well, hello there," Anzu offered softly, never breaking eye contact with the tall, dark, ruggedly handsome sculpture in front of her, standing up as straight as she could possibly muster. She summoned all of her strength to appear surprised, but only very slightly. She couldn't let him catch on to the fact that her brain and body were both racing, confused, and literally ringing from the contact with this_ man_ in front of her. It would be too bold, give him too much of an upper hand. And after all this was _the Seto Kaiba_, the man of many calculated actions and gestures that never betrayed a single intention.

The man in front of her betrayed no surprise or emotion except for a gentle, preposterous smirk that played gently at the corner of his mouth. To those who hadn't spent enough time with him, it would have been virtually unnoticeable. But then again, she was no ordinary woman. It was the very first thing she noticed about that face, apart from how much it had grown into the face of a young man.

Anzu realized it had been several seconds since either of them had spoken, and as she snapped back into reality, she broke the eye contact that had been hanging on a wire and looked around to see the crowd around her, pretending to speak to one another as they glanced her way every few seconds. She wondered what had caused the attention until she realized that Kaiba had somehow managed to accumulate a right hand full of glass shards. She must have broken the crystal vial in her collision, and without her even noticing, he had picked up every last shard nonchalantly and was now placing them in the trash and walking away.

Confused beyond words could describe, she found herself gliding against her will in his direction, stopping behind his seat at a deserted open bar whose bartender was spending more time shining the glasses than mixing drinks, watching him sip delicately at a honey-colored liquid. By the smell of it, scotch on the rocks, her bitter caramelized drink of choice. Wondering whether she should announce her presence or walk away and never think of this moment again, she moved a breath forward and decided to order a scotch on the rocks when--

"Bartender is already bringing you Jack on the rocks," a deep voice interrupted, never looking at her, continuing to sip his drink.

Anzu blanched, not caring how he was somehow able to read her thoughts. _Probably a perk of his genius._

"So I suppose the question of what you are doing here is pointless anyways," she mustered, realizing that she was staring. She had to admit that he was wantonly handsome, a kind of handsome that made even her, with her solid (yet currently failing) composure, feel a stirring deep inside. Thanking the bartender for his drink with a smile, she sipped vigorously at the liquid that was failing to give her the steely courage she usually had.

She realized he was smirking openly into his glass.

"Yes, and I hear these days you are not one to waste your time asking about the pointless, so let's move on to next step of this interaction, shall we?" Seto countered flawlessly, never changing the smooth, bored, yet eloquent intonations of his voice.

Anzu smiled slightly to herself. He had certainly mellowed, even though his words still bit raw, the smirk told her he was being melancholy for show, and was sure her presence had seriously amused him. "Then I won't waste your time. Thank you for covering for my little dazed slip-up back there. I have to admit, I have been sipping on an awful lot of champagne tonight. Perhaps my faculties are not as intact as I have thought them to be. So are you in town for long?" She chatted politely, never moving her peripheral gaze from his quivering smile.

And then he shattered all of her expectations with one well-formed sentence. His eyes glittered fiercely as her turned to her and looked pointedly into her eyes.

"Mazaki, I think we are both beyond the point of speaking to each other like we have profoundly large poles up our arses so can we _please _try not to talk like we are assessing each other's estate value. And while we are at it, let's also not pretend you have an estate to assess." He smirked openly at her as he finished and took a large glorious sip from his glass in mock salute to her.

And against her last nerve and will, she couldn't help but laugh inside. A man with a pole the size of an oak tree up his ass, and he was telling her to cut the shit? She had to hand it to him, the man was indeed_ funny._

"Well then, boy genius, what would you like to chat about? My career? Relationships? Feelings? What _would_ the great Seto Kaiba want to discuss with my estate lacking self?" Anzu knew she sounded childish and idiotic the minute she finished, yet she also somehow knew he would smile once again.

He did smile, he smiled his beautiful, sinfully sexy megawatt smile and continued drinking.

She was tingling with infuriation and something else she couldn't quite place. But she kept her composure.

"No seriously, I would definitely like to know. You and I have never so much as exchanged a full sentence, I know so much about you it frankly makes me a little nauseous, yet you don't know me from the slightest, so where would you even begin? I have to admit, that I am slightly curious as to what a man like you would want to know about a woman like me. " Anzu felt herself rapidly becoming more interested in why he was still sitting motionless at his seat, his watch glimmering in the light of the crystal chandelier as she prodded him. _Rolex_, she noted with a breath. _Simple, elegant, and exquisitely beautiful. Like him._

Seto Kaiba set down his drink with conviction and turned a 180 to face her. His irritatingly beautiful smirk was getting more irresistible by the second, his deep pools of blue seething into hers, and she felt herself heat up ever so slightly. Refusing to respond to the tactic that he was employing, she steeled herself, her beautiful azure eyes staring widely and even more deeply into his sapphires, her head tilted upwards. Beautiful amber wisps dripped gently into her face as the two stared down. Like a reflex he reached up and brushed the annoyance out of her face. It was by no means sweet. He was ridding himself of an annoyance. And she knew this better than anyone, but at that very second that fact was even sexier than any sweet, generous action would have been.

And then he spoke. And she responded honestly and breathlessly.

"Relationships?"

"Nothing longer than a few weeks."

"Why not?"

"I'm looking for the kind of raw passion that makes me never want to leave his lips. I never found it. The alternative is not worth wasting my time on."

"Friends?"

"Hard to make friends in a business in which you must screw them over to have a chance. To let somebody foreign in is to give them the chance to hurt you. This is the real world, not Domino. There are hundreds waiting to watch me fall."

"Career?"  
"Remains to be seen."

"Home?"

She paused, quizzical. The rapid fire Q&A that had just taken place had made sense until now. And then she understood what he meant.

"Is nothing like this place. Nobody seems to understand that once you leave, not only can you not really go back home, but you can't really tie yourself to the place you have left it for either. So, forever floating."

And then the nerve of him, he_ nodded. In understanding._ _The cold, beautiful bastard just nodded at her in understanding. _She felt like shivering. Of course he would know. Multibiilionaire at the age of 16. And yet he slept nights in the mansion of the man who pretended to the rest of the world that he deserved the name "stepfather".

He inched closer still to her, standing up and draining his glass as he did so, but never breaking the eye contact that had built to the point of utmost tension. The thread that was keeping their eyes locked was stretched so taut that any breath might have broken it. When stood to his full height, his figure was majestic and intimidating. Muscles rippled gently through Armani sleeves, and the sleeves tightened visibly when he flexed.

"Dance?" He half asked, half stated, all the while maintaining his sinful smirk.

She couldn't believe her own ears when she heard herself respond with a short, decisive _yes._


	3. AUTHORS NOTE

***NEW AUTHOR NOTE*: So I wanted to add this note, because some readers were a bit confused as to why the characters are slightly, well, out of character! I forgot to make it clear that along with the 5 year gap that has been introduced, I have taken some liberties to mature the characters as I foresee them to change. For one, the Anzu in this fanfic will not be as much of the high-pitched cheerleader that we used to see in the series. At least not in the beginning. I would like to think of it like experience and time have sobered her, and some of her youthful optimism has been lost as often happens to us as we move far away and try to find success in difficult careers. By this point, Anzu has moved to New York, has suffered through years of blood, sweat, and tears over her dance career, and has had very little time to have contact with the friends that she loves so much. The thoughts Anzu had in chapter 1 served as a window into how she used to be and how she has changed to become today. So that is why Anzu seems different, and if you reread chapter one you can kind of follow that natural progression over time. I changed her because it felt right, and because otherwise, she wouldn't make any sense. Anzu acted like a silly high school girl when she was in high school, and now that she has entered the real world, she will act like a woman. Seto on the other hand, angry, self-centered, egotistical, yet obviously superior has gone through a bit of an opposite change over time. Like most arrogant young men we girls loved to hate in high school and college, Seto was out of control. Now he has matured in a different way. He has, of course, kept all of his arrogance and has maintained his egotistical, chauvinistic attitude, however like Anzu he has lost his stupidity. He is standoffish and rude, yet not as irrationally as before. He has learned to charm people and behave well in public, and has learned that while anger is necessary in some situations, blind anger serves him no purpose. Oh and our favorite Kaiba has also developed a bit of a taste for exceptionally beautiful ladies, as most men grow up to do**** In short, our evil genius has morphed into a charming, seductive evil genius who has grown enough to be pretty amused by the presence of dear, disillusioned, lonely Anzu Mazaki. Now you may read with no confusion! Sorry about any previous confusion!**


	4. Repressions

Momentarything: Hello, the new chapter is up! I wanted to update once before the next two weeks get crazy. Next update will be within the next few weeks, so please check back!

I once again disclaim that I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. I also want to thank the loyal readers, and the reviewers!! You are all great. You make this fic worth writing. I also happened to finish a one-shot during the gap between these updates, it's really **M **and its called **Words**, hope you get a chance to check it out if you are interested. I hope this chapter will be to your liking. There will some moments in this chapter that denote a shift, and by the next update, a real plot will get going pretty fast. Things will start to really happen. Maybe some new characters will enter the picture. Interesting, delightful things could even happen. But for now its gonna be a bit of a long, slow, sexy burnnnn.

CHAPTER 4: REPRESSIONS

Light danced off of the crystals of Anzu's t-strap heels. It was fluid like the motion that Seto Kaiba had used to lure her and to glide her onto the dance floor. To any of the hundreds of women eyeing him greedily, he exuded complete apathy as he twirled, flipped, and swung the limber girl with utter ease. He moved exceptionally, going through the motions without thought or inhibition. His face was as perfectly put on as he intended it to be, never faltering once or betraying just how much he was enjoying this little repartee. His body told a different story with its stark, sensual motions. And a slight smirk quivered consistently at the corner of his soft lips.

Seto took a short breath and steeled himself as he traced a finger gently down her bare arm. He could feel her momentarily shiver and he paused to laugh, but frowned instead. He had simply been toying with her earlier, questioning her about her life. However, he was slightly taken aback at the fact that he was the tiniest bit interested in her answers. Not that he had ever really listened to what anyone had said to him before. Maybe it was more the novelty of listening rather than the speaker herself.

Yet ever since the previous exchange had occurred, something had been slightly prodding at his cold, unfeeling, and bastardly composure. He couldn't put a finger on it, but it was making him act more…genial than usual. He sensed an interestingly bitter loneliness from her, perhaps even a fierce commitment to success. Almost intriguing, in the sense that none of the other blockheads she had grown up with had possessed any of these qualities. He realized sharply at that moment how much he had been thinking about a dialogue of under 2 minutes and immediately cut her out of his thoughts to spare just exactly who he was.

After all, had an immense amount of self-control and she certainly wasn't touching it. He smirked knowingly as his thoughts skittered to how far away she was from actually affecting him. Here he was, a man that could literally be unaffected by an enchanted siren. He was one of the greats in that sense. He would even like to think (_thank you very much_) had he been Odysseus, he wouldn't have been nearly as much of a senseless idiot. Being so powerfully in control of his own emotions that he could make his heart rate slow at will, he would have immediately cut Circe's ungrateful head off and had it delivered to her by the end of the business day. It wasn't that she was affecting him to the point where he was fazed in any way. No, but she was definitely in his arms, and she was irking him ever so slightly. It was like a gentle itch at the corner of his mind.

That damn gentle itch was starting to get in the way, as he was naturally growing bored of it. And that almost nonexistent interference was starting to grow and ever so slightly frustrate him.

If there was anything Seto Kaiba hated, it was a growing annoyance. He twirled her a little harder as he snapped out of his thoughts, and she came careening into him with a little more force than necessary. He held her there, studying the offending figure before him with his stormy blue eyes.

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Anzu was not holding up as well as her partner. Oh man, could the boy move. It angered her, as it meant that he was truly good at everything, even the art of dance that she had worked so diligently to master over the last 5 years. She had pirouetted and jeted with the best of them, and here he was, blowing her senses one by one by being the best of them all, and she was trying so hard to stop it. She managed to stay blasé as he nonchalantly held her, traced her body, and flipped her form into every achingly sensual position he could muster on the floor. She was really starting to wonder if she had been naïve enough to become one of his games for the night, a cat and mouse sort of fiasco that was bound to end poorly for her. Shaking the thought out of her head, she calmed her growing nerves. Why was she being such a stupid little girl? If she came undone any more than this, she would honestly think she was…..oh god, _herself 5 years ago._

She was rudely lunged out of her reverie by an overly zealous tug by the man of the moment himself, and she went flying into his body once again.

She fairly gasped when she hit him and chided herself for doing so. As her eyes connected electrically with the storm in his ocean blues, the last coherent piece of advice she could give herself was _get a grip, you silly fool._

Seto studied her as the music shifted into a light jazz. The movements became slow and casual and instead of staring at the sizzling twosome on the floor, several less-coordinated attendees made their way out onto the floor. To him she looked like a completely bored mute. But he had a feeling brunette cheerleader had learned a thing or two over the past few years. He was willing to bet she had mastered what he called "bastard-façade", the look of complete mundaneness coupled with an air of superiority and a dash of omniscience. A look that could fool the world but really now, she wasn't fooling him all that well.

To be fair, she had mastered a lot of things over that time gap. He paused to appraise her body, although it wasn't new to him, as a man like him could literally have looked (and more) at any woman in the world over the age of 18. Beautiful women didn't make him a fool like it made the average man, because women too were disposable to him.

He couldn't help but look though, because she was so conveniently placed in front of him, glittering with dancer's pride. She had truly become a sight for sore eyes, if he were to ever experience that sad state of affairs.

Long, lean, and slim with beautiful curves and tantalizing hips, she stood at a height of 5'9". Her silky brunette hair was twisted into soft, gentle curls that didn't beg for attention but flounced gently around her face and to her shoulders where they nested happily against her olive skin. He glanced at her neckline, and there was nothing to say. Muscles were gentle yet taut in her endless legs and graceful arms and he realized, as his eyes had travelled the length of her curvy yet slim body, that _she_ was what they called the perfect 10. Her eyes smoldered against dark kohl makeup and the breathtaking blues pierced everything she glanced at.

He knew she could see his eyes flare up as he pretty openly appraised her. He wondered momentarily how that had felt for her. He would be oh so disappointed if she, like the thousands of drooling Stepford wives around him, were flattered by his attention. Wasn't it her fiery grit that interested him enough to socialize minimally with her in the first place? Perhaps deep down he had wanted to assault her with his eyes to fuel the kind of response he knew only she had the nerve to give. He had to admit, there hadn't been a last time he had paid attention to someone out of his own personal entertainment. Most socializing for him was to keep up appearances--a fake smile here, or a handshake there. There was the occasional patience with a competitor's wife who chatted idly with him as she mentally undressed him and did vile things to his being. But for the most part, he was one amazingly cold-ass piece of stone that played his part and came out on top. Yes, Mazaki was definitely something that he had approached for personal entertainment. He was determined, as his eyes narrowed dangerously, to find out just why that was.

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He stopped moving with flawless grace and gently led a speechless Anzu off of the dance floor. Pausing to whisper something in fluent French to a server, he thrust his hands in his pockets fashionably and leaned on an elegant Greek column as he waited for something…she had no idea what. She couldn't help but watch him (out of the corner of her eye) frown almost childishly, check his wristwatch, and run a hand through his chestnut hair in a way that made her feel a pang of jealousy. Instantly, a tuxedo-clad and dignified man slipped to Kaiba's side and passed a bottle to him discretely. Puzzled, yet having too much pride to utter a word, Anzu pretended to look boredly at her cleanly trimmed fingernails. Her eyebrows were raised gently and the dangerous fire in her eyes grew as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. The hands in front of her parted quickly to reveal a hint of the very large bill Kaiba had cleanly slipped to the host's palm. Casually surveying the room, he turned to her, and she felt a harsh grip on her wrist as she was whisked away though a disguised corridor and into a deserted hall.


End file.
